 |
November 23, 2006
The Spirit of the Holiday is Me
I'm trying to figure out why Blogger won't republish my template, because I've added another neato widget to the bottom of the home page: an Amazon icon that links to my Amazon Wish List. But since my family is already asking me what I want for Xmas/Hanukkah, I'll just do the quick n' dirty and post a regular URL link here. Before you look at my gargantuan Want List, lemme just say that yes, I could definitely use a couple more large cherry wood bookshelves and another really big CD shelving unit, too...
November 15, 2006
CR Doesn't Look a Day Over 40
Finally, some upbeat news: the venerable Chicago Review is celebrating its 60th anniversary this Friday with a free party. Entertainment includes short readings by Devin Johnston, Lisa Robertson, and John Wilkinson (plus "special surprise guests"), and the music of my friend, Mr. John Lennox (MySpace), who gave a fine impromptu performance at my wedding a couple weeks ago, incidentally. The shindig is at the Around the Coyote Gallery, 1935 ½ W. North Avenue, from 7:00 to 11:00 pm. The ghosts of William Burroughs, Irving Rosenthal, and Allen Ginsberg will be out in full force.
November 10, 2006
That Library Thing on my mind
On a (lighter? duller? retarded?) note, I've added Library Thing's widget to my blog (it's at the end of the page, when you scroll all the way down.) This startlingly useless and ego-gratifying fukm'hicky enables you to search the online catalog of my personal library, all 617 pieces (and counting: haven't yet entered the books in burb-storage out at my moms and pops.) Touch my shelf, don't stop it.
November 09, 2006
R.I.P. Gerard Klauder, 9/27/74 – 10/22/06
 Jesus. It's insane to find myself posting two blog obituaries in a row here. I was e-mailing with a friend of mine earlier today: "It's weird: just this moment I've kinda realized that I'm feeling this large tectonic shift, what with the wedding, honeymoon, NYC, the landslide election, and the suicides. A feeling of one thing ending and another starting, within myself as well as in the outer world simultaneously. The last time I felt such a large synchronized shift like this was 9/11..." [then some stuff about my private life five-six years ago] Like Malachi, Gerard was an avant-gardist, and an extremely smart, creative, and energetic guy, although sadly, like Malachi, I wished I'd gotten to know him a little better while he was still alive. Like Malachi, Gerard also took his own life. I'm a little worn-out from the events of the past couple weeks to go on too much about this. The Smack Shire-slash-To Live and Shave in L.A. folks (the SS site is actually up; just look a little closer) have posted a bunch of stuff about Gerard, including a formidable archive of Gerard's recordings, which you can find here, and Seth Tisue has started a photo blog over at Flickr. There's also talk of doing a WHPK Friday Focus Show on Gerard Klauder's music some time in the coming weeks (he was a U of C alum, and a former WHPK DJ) — when I get more info, I'll post it in this space.
R.I.P. Malachi Ritscher, 1/13/54 – 11/3/06
  This past Friday morning at around 7 am, Malachi Ritscher—a Chicago avant-garde musician, sound engineer, and long-time supporter of the local jazz/improv scene—apparently doused himself with gasoline at the base of a sculpture alongside the Kennedy expressway, and set himself on fire, in plain sight of morning rush-hour commuters on their way to work. He died at the scene. Found nearby were his car (with the license plate "AKG C 414", after his preferred microphone), a white sheet laid out with the inscription "Thou Shalt Not Kill" on it, and a video camera, with which he apparently taped his death (since confiscated by the authorities.) Although the identification of the charred body will take a while to identify by dental records, it is almost certainly that of Ritscher. It was discovered that he had posted a final letter and a self-penned obituary to his music web site, Chicago Rash Audio Potential. Several days later, the person who runs the Milwaukee avant indie label Okka Disk received a package in the mail from Malachi, with the keys to his house and instructions about what to do with his effects, including his large collection of self-produced live music recordings, as Ritscher was a tireless audio documentarian. Local music lists have been abuzz in recent days about the incident; many, many people are shocked, sad, confused, and angry about what happened. Yesterday, Peter Margasak at the Reader wrote a blog post about Malachi, to which lots of people have already responded with a wide range of comments, from disbelief to anger over the fact that the story has not been reported locally or picked up nationally for what it was: one deeply political man's act of protest against the Iraq War. Ritscher had a long history of involvement with anti-war and anti-Bush regime protests, and was a member of the class action suit against the Chicago Police in the wake of the mass arrests after the anti-war protests in downtown Chicago in 2003, when hundreds of people were incarcerated on flimsy or non-existent charges. I didn't know Malachi all that well. We performed together a few times at the Myopic Books Monday night improv thing, back in 1994-95, I think, when it was organized by Michael Colligan. And we worked together at the Regenstein Library from 2001-2006, where he was a building engineer, a staunch unionist and a proud "dues-paying proletariat intellectual." Though we didn't speak much (I can only remember one conversation he and I and our mutual friend/co-worker Rob Pleshar had, about Elvin Jones), I would pass by him in the Reg's big concrete expanses all the time and say hello, and I always thought he was friendly and smart. I had no idea he was in such turmoil. Though many are upset that his death is being thought of as a "regular" suicide rather than a deeper act of dissent—similar to the famous self-immolation of Thich Quang Duc in Vietnam in 1963—I can't help but wonder what else was going on. As my wife pointed out, if you're alive, you can do a hell of a lot more to fight injustice than if you're a corpse, if your beliefs run that deep. In his last words posted on his web site, he refers to a divorce and an estranged son and feeling that it was necessary to write his own obituary "because no one else really knew him." Trying to comprehend that level of loneliness turns my stomach. I don't really know what else to say here; I feel very upset and conflicted about all this. I guess another irony is that if he had only waited a few days longer to carry out his plan, he might have gleaned enough encouragement from the events of this week—the Republican upset in the House and Senate; the abdication of Hastert, Santorum, and Harris; the resignation of Rumsfeld—to avert this awful act of...discontent? Martyrdom? Desperation? No single word or idea can contain it.
November 08, 2006
The Ongoing Ineffable Pleasures of Extreme Spamicism
What to make of a world in which hardcore modernism still sits behind an old Remington manual at the round table of pre-digital literary memory, but, being dead ghosts, can't rise to greet the Spamicists drunk on wire transfers—the money, as well as the electricity itself—who keep crashing through the servants' door, though you just know they'd make great dinner guests if they'd ever meet? (They're both so dead.) Another found poem (it found me), ostensibly from a mid-level clerical in Kansas or something, who doesn't know her hard drive seduces Tristan Tzara while she's picking up laser pointer pens at Office Depot. I've edited Richard Meltzer, Rick Moody, and Momus, but this text was easier; only the removal of some HTML crap was necessary—grammar/line breaks/punctuation = perfect. I added verse delineations as dictated by internal logic. The light-warp dynamos titled this one "Semantic Fetus" (no shit.) AI lives here now. SEMANTIC FETUS I. We even know some people who know people who know people in high places. Inpex is also to renounce its status as the operator. They shared a table, food and much more. We showed the image to a few and asked them for some direction as to who to send the proposal to. Make the sculpture dismountable. This is the key activity in the whole project. Ltd, plans the procurement of the armoured luxury vehicles. From heavy wool coats, to cashmere sweaters and organic cotton jackets, the perfect winter outerwear. They are in simple shapes and bright colors. Now I have found out that it was the stairs of St. Now I have found out that it was the stairs of St. Today's religious holiday, ZaduAnice, is marked in the Serbian Orthodox Church calendar as the day dedicated to the memory of the dead, when families visit. A publisher in China wants to print them in Chinese. My view to the left from the stairs was St. Luxurious Cashmere: Always holiday favorite, luxurious. It was hot, hot, hot. II. What you buy from me is the idea, the drafts and all my experiences from building a huge metallic sculpture. Why the board relented could not be learned; funeral home operator Michael Grant, the. Today's religious holiday, ZaduAnice, is marked in the Serbian Orthodox Church calendar as the day dedicated to the memory of the dead, when families visit. The arch commemorated Thomas. such as an afghan should be timed accordingly to avoid last-minute knitting. such as an afghan should be timed accordingly to avoid last-minute knitting. its annual meeting on property rights, power and policy today at the Sheridan Holiday Inn. The enormous steel parabola was designed by Finnish-born architect Eero Saarinen. The sculpture is a few yards from her house. III. R0lGODdhIgP2AKUAAP///45wvOC+v+rSEGjrndWCyKzVTxd3NgO1+7KsY1UqCAzIwzOB0pia4R7R I7TMQF1tuhokMrVHShon9lILGknzSUYm8XQykWB+MUvFVm6nY8g8XRyBjIWCe453ELIMbnR3yy2g j/anW6UIN8mvlwAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACwAAAAAIgP2AAAG/kCAcEgsGo/IpHLJ bDqf0Kh0Sq1ar9isdsvter/gsHhMLpvP6LR6zW673/C4fE6v2+/4vH7P7/v/gIGCg4SFewSGiYqL jI2Oj5CRkpOUlZaXmJmam1QZnJ+goaKjpKWmp6ipqqusra6vsLGys7S1tre4ubq7vL2+v8DBwsPE xcbHyMnKy8zNzs/Q0dLT1NXW19jZ2tvc3d7f4OHi4+Tl5ufo6err7O1mF+7x8vP09fb3+Pn6+/z9 /v8AAwocSLCgwYMIEypcyLChw4cQI0qcSLGixYsYM2rcCC4Bx48gQ4p0MmKkyZMoU6oUGKFlyy8S YkoYIrMmkZozAcS8mROJ/sufEYi8PAPUJYChPoN6mTCBCFMoT8NEZVP0JdIjV6cUtQLUSVYtVZVG qcr1axOzRtCupINU7RC3RXbqzCnXSN2ddecqcQv3rFivf/n+3TIVQGEmh7skXnNVcJa+S9oOTioG chLLgLVOxrp57RzMbzvb7ak3L03SPIWYTit6C+ijgVtLbTpkcRLbWnCjaSwbbO+9v9W8LjIcuGa/ nvOobflB7NYlefGiVj399GrWl3nDlvxTyHPkobcT1240tNHWhacyPbzecNOn7Z3GF7J+vvv3tO9H TZ+fC/ms5ZkXYGSDfUdZUgD+F9t54Ak14IHjOQibeBGOl2BQ3E1WXHJl/qA1lHZNRDcTTj1dd5pf 3VVonncYxhYeFLwplaCDMta44m34uUcfberxCN9++QG5o3xD3lekjvx9ESOLKk74IoESPsnZgTPe +KFzkFUJl4FXsmhjlC9K5iWTTkrJ4WdYtgimZSLqNZp1qTHhGJhm0tlgmXiCyKSYSvyIZH9+1paj oDoSuliSRgR6pH8uSqknjI1mNuajlKpJppyR4okdgljSWWmell6q6ZlxKNiVqEpIV1p1bZ6IqXF2 ejnga5866iKfOP6pX32FDplkfbzu6iORwg66qGuZPrrdg9lZyGyTViUrbZmW1QrhlLZ6euu2XAZH KlHbNhsiXTK5GRdp/q1CKW6dm46qrqjWOnlqn8AqSqyvgBpLb6+6GpqvktOyK3CT7WK7Z8Dw1vjs tcoSTGOn2Wb7H6zfohkmxPLKJtfG1ZmbLsUGowrqxXfGO/ET8aUc5LBGItojv0K2vDLL9nH6hMkI g9ywil1q+mlxWsrm4ZflVUkymUVjXDEe8y5b4MLn4jUXTjyVG+e7zuL68IXB1fociAYegeiu8uU4 NrCCBrvjoLz2qC+CkGora4Z9fRc2pwvm3TPSTYMsK6anTvxgigJaSC3hIi/90c6N9MdvyLsw/saG ileOItSNo93M3XJQbvnnoIcu+uikl2766agrl6LnscKB+GOREh6W/s4tBt5o2Gbl/tvsrDuMeRi9 y57zwKmfI2bviTMat7tVgP0l8TdOqLuE8bILmuRSvM788jd7S6XCETtcPDoAbj+W98d1nz {end}
|